


BHHS' Unofficial Fall Holiday Party for Teachers

by Freshnonsense42



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Teachers, Drunk Stiles Stilinski, Fluff, Getting Together, M/M, Misunderstandings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-30
Updated: 2019-11-30
Packaged: 2021-02-25 21:54:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,280
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21612613
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Freshnonsense42/pseuds/Freshnonsense42
Summary: Derek Hale hates Stiles' guts. Stiles knows because Derek is always glaring at him at school.During an unofficial work party, Stiles gets drunk and somehow winds up talking with Derek.Things end unexpectedly.
Relationships: Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski
Comments: 11
Kudos: 486





	BHHS' Unofficial Fall Holiday Party for Teachers

Having a fall holiday break party at Scott and Allison’s house had been a stroke of genius on Stiles’ part. Because you couldn’t have alcohol at an official work party for a variety of reasons. One being too much liability on their employer’s part if one of them did something stupid. Two being they were high school teachers. 

Whiskey in the break room was kind of frowned upon. Tyrants. 

Everyone had shown up, mostly because Scott had insisted on inviting everyone, even people Stiles had begged him not to invite. Like fucking Derek Hale, English teacher, buzzkill, and star of one too many Stiles’ X-rated dreams. Stiles had been convinced he wouldn’t show up, but then he had with all his frowns eyebrows and leather jackets. 

Stiles hated him. 

“We should have had a turkey.” The words were a little muffled by Derek’s shoulder. It was not Stiles’ fault that the man was so damned comfortable. Nor was it his fault that Derek had sat next to him on the couch while Stiles was slightly - slightly - tipsy. 

“Allison made turkey.” 

God, did everything he said have to sound so sexy?

“Stiles.” Derek shook Stiles’ shoulder and he groaned at the motion. Apparently, Derek wanted him to throw up all over his horrible gold and red stripped sweater. 

“A real turkey!”

“Was Allison’s turkey vegan?”

“Oh my god.” Stiles gripped Derek’s sweater in one hand, desperately trying to decide if he thought Derek’s obliviousness was adorable or willfully ignorant.

“Stiles.”

“I meant an alive turkey.”

“What would we do with a living turkey?”

Stiles wasn’t sure. He’d brought it up because… because… there had been a reason. Derek had sat on the couch beside him and Stiles had stared at him bleary eyed. It was hateful how sober Derek looked. Stiles may have said that out loud. He probably had based on the way Derek responded. And then…

There was a chance that Stiles may have… not passed out… just lost a few moments. Because the next thing he knew, Stiles was pressed against him and Derek’s hand had rested against his shoulder so gently and Stiles did not know how to respond to that.

Stiles stared at his hand wrapped in Derek’s sweater and frowned. “Why are you here?”

“What, without a turkey?”

A tingle started at the base of Stiles neck and continued up his skull at the teasing in Derek’s voice. “No.” He shifted his gaze up to Derek’s face, which was not screwed up in disapproval or irritation or judgement. It was soft and open and his mouth was turned up like he was tempted to smile at Stiles. “With me. You hate me.”

Derek’s eyebrows shot up and Stiles reached out a hand to poke one. He’d wanted to touch Derek Hale’s Eyebrows (proper capitalization was important) ever since he’d first met him last school year. Derek wrapped a hand loosely around Stiles’ wrist and said, “I don’t.”

“And I don’t even know why you hate me.” There was a chance that Stiles had drunk more than he remembered. Maybe he shouldn’t have let Lydia make his last rum and coke. “Apart from the normal reasons people hate me.” He leaned away from Derek so he could look into his eyes properly. “I’m kinda a lot.”

“You’re passionate.”

“I’m annoying.”

“You’re dedicated.”

“I’m pushy.”

“You’re loyal.”

“I’m talkative. Non-stopable. Like Ron Stopable. Have you seen _Kim Possible_ , Derek?”

“You’re interesting.”

Stiles plopped back onto Derek’s shoulder with a snort. “If I’m so great, why do you hate me?”

After a moment’s hesitation Derek wrapped an arm around Stiles’ shoulders. “I don’t hate you, Stiles. I thought you hated me." Stiles made a... noise to express his disbelief. "When I first started at BHHS you filled my classroom with balloons.”

“It was a welcome gift!” Stiles winced at the sound of his own voice. Oh my god, was he already heading into hang-over territory? 

“A welcome gift,” repeated Derek, blankly.

Stiles flapped a hand in the general direction of Derek’s face. “Prank. A welcome prank. But I didn’t want you to hate me. You’re so funny, and smart, and sneaky sweet, and you’re such a fucking nerd. Oh my god, Derek, I want you to lecture me on Frankenstein.”

“You think I’m funny?”

Derek said it with such vulnerability that Stiles had to lean back again. This needed eye contact. “I think you’re fantastic,” insisted Stiles.

Then he threw up on Derek’s ugly sweater.

* * *

An impending sense of doom greeted Stiles when he woke up. But as someone with anxiety that was not as uncommon an experience as he would’ve hoped for. This time it was mixed with an aching head, cotton mouth, and a general sense of his body rebelling against him. 

He cracked one eye open and groaned at the light. He rolled over, slowly in deference to his stomach, and head, and muscles, and buried his head in the pillow. Lavender. Ok. So he was at Scott and Allison’s house. It wasn’t ideal, but it wasn’t as bad as it could be.

For a while Stiles stayed like that, trying to become one with the bed and floating somewhere between consciousness and unconsciousness. Then a memory of last night flitted through his mind. 

He, Stiles Stilinski, had vomited on Derek Hale.

He jerked upright then tried to make himself as still as possible so he didn’t die. After a few thick swallows he managed to steady himself enough to think again. Not that reliving the night before made him feel better. He’d made an ass out of himself and topped it off by vomiting on Derek. 

If Derek hadn’t hated him before then he definitely did after last night. What had Scott been thinking, letting Stiles hang out with Derek while drunk? How was Stiles supposed to face Derek at school again? Maybe he’d hire one of his students to run interference and keep Derek distracted while Stiles ran down the halls to his classroom. Not exactly the best use of his authority, but worth it.

All he could do now was yell at Scott and try not to die. He’d spend the whole holiday break on Scott and Allison’s couch, complains about how awful he felt and how Scott had betrayed him. 

When he sat on the edge of the bed, though, there was a note on the nightstand. Stiles grabbed it and blinked unseeingly at it for a few minutes. Once his eyes focused he read:

I think you’re fantastic, too. Call me. 

-D

Followed by a phone number. 

Stiles stared at the note uncomprehendingly. Then he realized D was Derek. Derek Hale! Derek Hale thought he was fantastic! 

“Scott! Scotty!” Stiles stumbled out of the bedroom, ignoring his body’s complaints. “We have to plan my wedding, Scott!”

Scott appeared in the doorway, his hair sticking up in every direction and looking a little green himself. “Wha?”

Stiles fell against him, arms wrapped around his neck, and Scott grunted. “Derek and I are getting married. Look at the love note he left me.”

Scott ignored the paper shoved in his face and sighed. He shoved Stiles off him and said, “I’m going back to bed.”

“What?! But my wedding!”

“Come plan it in bed.”

Stiles trailed after him, delighted by the idea that Allison could help him. She’d have loads of good ideas for his and Derek’s wedding. And later, probably after he panicked about fucking up the relationship, Stiles would call Derek and they’d go on their first date. And fall in love. And get married. And adopt puppies or babies or both and maybe a cat.

It would be incredible. 


End file.
